TRIGGER WARNING: This poem contains the following theme/idea of BODY IMAGE. If this theme is a trigger to you, I highly understand and respect if you wish to skip past this one. Lots of love. You are all beautiful human beings in your own right, so don't let anyone tell you otherwise :)
There is a storm in summer and spring
Which winter and autumn understand;
Blindsided by Validation
As they struggle to cling to his firm hand.
What about Expectation?
That heartless, deceiving ghoul, who's shadowing
Them, hidden by his midnight cowl.
Doubt plagues minds, breaks hearts and forces
Us to peer into a portal of disgrace with a toxic, broken scowl;
a face defaced by Doubt and her loyal guild of despair.
How on Earth is this fair?
Here comes Vanity; her face carved by diamonds and arrogance,
With her shareholder, Insecurity, investing sorrow
Into her self-made industry where broken models borrow
Scalpels, stitches, saline, and a little bit of chance
Buying their way into an hourglass of deception and acceptance.
Little do they know that their skin will grow tough
And the sands of time will fall until there is no more -
Just plastic for flesh and leather for skin
Securing Doubt the demoralising win.
It's all surface. Is there any substance from within?
In the corner, overshadowed by Vanity, Beauty will often reside,
Sobbing to herself, "Why not me, but a foul, self-obsessed mimic?
A dastardly fool with ill intention – to destroy
And beseech with vicious pride;
Until nothing remains unique, except for the permanent scars
That are too bold and too stubborn to hide
Behind cheap gimmicks and a universal marketing ploy.
Just a sick illusion as though they're from Mars;
No more fat. No more wrinkles. No more genetics.
Is it enough now?"
What would Mother Nature say?
To watch her kin fall victim, become prey,
To such bio-degrading cruelty. Her tears become
Tsunamis and her vision will become blurry
Over her carefully crafted model being chipped away
By Doubt's whispers which welcome in self-worry.
Doubt: the tyrant of esteem and an artillery
That not only blasts, but drains,
Until she has driven every man, woman and child insane.
Is it worth the mind-numbing misery?
So, remnants of our soul we must reimburse
As Beauty comes with her flaws, an eternal curse,
"Beauty that must die", a sacrifice;
One that she prayed would be suffice
However, her hand-made creations are demolished into ruins
Degraded, obliterated, broken down once again by humans.
Cast thy unworldly demons out!
--Validation and Vanity, Insecurity and Doubt --
With a shimmer of self-esteem to liberate us of our cynicism,
O great mother, Nature, eradicate this body fascism.
YOU ARE READING
Nature's Balanced Garden
Poetry"People are like flowers. We all need a little rain to grow." Inside, there is a collection of my personal works of poetry that I have created and poured my heart into making. The themes range from real-life experiences and topics such as body image...
